Just Notice Me
by carter.a.jane
Summary: When Sara starts acting differently and the team's integrity is in danger, what is a supervisor to do? Season 10 spoilers! Femslash, too! Don't like it, don't read it! Rating may be bumped up to M in later chapters.
1. Fragmented

_**Author's Note: I've wanted to write a CSI fic for quite a long time and just never got around to it. It includes femslash (girl on girl loving), so if that isn't your thing, then don't read it! I don't own CSI or any of the characters, I'm just borrowing them to play for a little while.**_

_**Spoiler warning! Episode references include Season 10 episodes!**_

**Chapter One - Catherine - Fragmented**

I walked into the break room while fiddling with the assignment sheets in my hands. My heels echoed throughout the general quiet – everyone seemed tired tonight, reading science journals or tying up loose ends on their cases, so it was no surprise when they all looked up upon my entrance.

"Alright guys, we don't have much work tonight," I announced with a small smile on my face. "Greg and Sara, you have a 419 out in Summerlin. Nick, take Ray with you for this one. It's a 411, the location's on the slip. I've got a lot of paperwork to catch up on, so get to work on those. You know where I'll be if you need me." Handing out the slips, I turned to head to my office and my thoughts.

Sitting in my chair, I sighed. It wasn't the mound of paperwork before me that caused my distress…it was the team. _Well,_ I thought, _they're not exactly a team right now._ Things had been disjointed in the lab for a couple weeks, and it was getting a little bit absurd. I put my head in my hands and covered my eyes. Why was it so hard for me to keep a team together? I had about a million better ways to relate to people than good old Gil had ever shown, and yet I found myself jealous of the way the bug-man used to keep the team together. Did he ever have problems like these? If he did, I had never noticed.

My biggest issue was with the way Ray had been acting. He seemed to be much more secretive, taking cases into his own hands and becoming almost hell-bent on the Jekyll cases. To say I was worried wouldn't be enough. He seemed almost calculating, and he was always sliding around us. A team is only as strong as its weakest link, isn't that what they say? If Ray couldn't trust us, that small crack in the team could turn into a fissure – and what would come of that? I didn't want the team to fall apart, much less have someone fishy in our labs. Ecklie was bad enough…not that I was comparing him with Ray, not at all. I just couldn't imagine having to deal with looking out for both of them.

The rest of the team had been pretty great. It felt wonderful to have Sara back – she was a familiar face, and even if she was closed-off most of the time, she definitely had come out of her shell a little. Maybe it was the marriage with Gil, but no matter what I could tell she was happier than when she left. She had healed a lot and still had her "Sidle spark." When she had first returned, it was like a breath of fresh air. Just having Nick and Greg with me, and some newbie and a fill-in, wasn't enough to keep the lab running in tip-top shape. But lately Sara had been heading into that familiar burn-out territory…that place where she spends nights at the lab, works way too much overtime, and gets a sulkier demeanor. She wasn't going to the extent of Ray, and I knew I could trust her, but I was concerned. Nick was, too. He was actually the one that brought her to my attention. I was used to it from all of those years – we were never really great friends outside of work, and so it was no surprise that Nick had been the one to talk to me. He always cared for her. They were like brother and sister.

A soft rapping on the door brought me out of my thoughts and face to face with none other than Sara Sidle standing outside of my door with the blinds half-pulled. I made an effort to make my desk less of a mess, not wanting to get caught with my head in my hands and my papers not quite tended to.

"Come in," I called, trying to add a smile to my voice. The door slid open quietly.

"Uh, Catherine?" Came the somewhat uneasy and somehow still-confident query.

"I thought you went with Greg?" My voice was soft, not accusatory. I had learned quickly when she had returned: remember the fights and the stress, keep the vocal tone at least neutral, if not supportive.

"Yeah, I told him I'd be there in a minute and that I had something to take care of. He called Brass already to let him know," she answered easily, sitting in a chair diagonally across from me at my desk. I nodded. "I'm not interrupting, am I?" She added, a classic Sidle afterthought.

"Of course not," I assured her. "What can I do for you?"

"I'd like to take a day or two off." Never one to dodge around a situation, she laid it out for me. I was shocked that she was asking for time off. Usually she'd work until someone dragged her home. My shock must have been evident, for she quirked an eyebrow up. "What's with that look?"

"Nothing," I brushed it off, pleased to see her smile – even if it wasn't a full-blown grin. "I'm just so used to you working until you drop, literally, is all. Taking a trip?" I asked, wondering if we were going to hear anything about her husband here at the lab. I knew she kept her home life private, but he _was_ our colleague – our mentor – at one point.

"No," she shook her head. "I just need some time to myself. Time to think. I can't do that here."

"You're not going to take off on us again, are you?" I asked, partially joking yet mostly seriously – now was _not_ a good time for a loss. She smiled again, a chuckle even bubbling forth.

"Don't worry about that. I'm nowhere near where I was back then."

"Good. We need a stronger team around here these days."

"Oh don't I know it," she chuckled as she stood. Just the simple conversation had lifted Sara's spirits. I smiled back at her, waving her away with one hand.

"Now, shoo. Go find Greg and Brass."

**AN: Thanks for reading! Hopefully the next chapter will be up soon! It'll be from Sara's POV. Thanks for any reviews in advance! I'll take any tips on how to make the characters seem more like themselves!**


	2. Vicodin

_**Author's Note: Yay, chapter 2! I should be updating fairly frequently, especially on weekends. I can't promise anything on weekdays, as I have school, but I will at least post one or two chapters per week – more if I can manage it. Like I said, I don't own CSI or the characters. I'm just taking them out to play for a bit. Spoilers are still for Season 10.**_

**Chapter 2 - Sara - Vicodin**

I left Catherine's office with a smile on my face. Not that surprising these days. If I wasn't hiding in an empty lab or burying myself in casework, being around Catherine would lift my spirits. See, that was my problem. She either caused me pain and to overwork myself or she'd be sending me up to dance all over cloud nine. That's why I needed a few days to myself – to put my head back on straight and return to my job with the gusto I had when I first saw everyone after my marriage to Grissom.

_Grissom_. The last name echoed through my head, followed by a million questions I couldn't possibly begin to list off. _Gil_, I amended. The questions quieted down, replaced with a little bit of warmth and a lot more emptiness. A sigh parted my lips as I pulled up next to Greg's Denali. _Time to get to work_, I chastised myself. I grabbed my kit and headed over to where a familiar face was smiling.

"Nice of you to join us," Brass began, a smile in his deep voice.

"I had to talk to Catherine," I answered him, giving him a look that clearly stated he should know what I was talking about.

"Uh-huh. Well, I'll give you the quick version. The deceased, an Eric Branlen, was found a couple feet from the pool, face-down and spread-eagled. David's still with the body, he was running late as well. Let's go see how he's doing, I'll tell you the rest on the way." I nodded, and Brass lead me carefully around to the back of the house.

It was a nice little building, a chain fence bordering the backyard so neighbors couldn't have access to the pool. There was a nice little concrete sidewalk to the pool area, the ground sprouting a few clusters of foliage. There were no visible signs of a struggle, at least not at first glance. The patio furniture wasn't upturned, and there were no blood trails. No footprints, either.

"Girlfriend called it in, said she walked out back because Branlen wouldn't answer the door. Found him like this, checked his pulse, dialed 911. She said she didn't touch anything else, but I plan on calling her in for at least a brief questioning and to get DNA and fingerprints from her for you guys," Brass finished, walking up to David. David looked up, and smiled briefly.

"Hey Brass, Sara."

"Hey there, David," I replied. "What're we looking at?"

"I haven't had a chance to roll the body, since Greg's working the perimeter, but from what I can tell this body hasn't been moved. The lividity seems to be just setting in, and based on the body temperature I collected, this guy's probably been dead only a couple of hours. He's not too stiff."

"Thanks, David. Ready to roll him over?" I asked, putting on a fresh pair of gloves.

"Sure, just grab that end over there and roll him towards me." I kneeled down near the pool, putting my kit out of the way, and helped David turn the body over. "Well that's interesting," David said, leaning closer to the body. "His chest and face have no scratches, so it doesn't appear that he fell. That's what my guess was at first." I nodded.

"No defense wounds on his arms or hands, either," I commented, lifting each one and inspecting it closely.

"He has a bottle of…Vicodin in his pocket." David held it up and shook it. "And there's only one pill left."

"Is it his?"

"Yep. It was filled just yesterday, so I'm guessing this is an overdose we're looking at."

"There'd be a lot of missing Vicodin otherwise," I said, smiling. Standing up and brushing my knees off, I readjusted my gloves and bagged the bottle of Vicodin. As I did so, Greg peeked over the fence from the side of the house he had been working on.

"Hey, Sara! This place has much of nothing!"

I laughed. "Keep looking, Greg, there's gotta be something around here!"

"Ten bucks says there isn't!" He replied, clearly joking but making a serious face none the less.

"Do your job, Greg," I scolded him, smiling and turning to Brass. "Well, I guess I'll finish up the immediate area and then head inside. Give me a page when you've got the girlfriend's information, I may have something to ask her by then."

"Alright. There's an officer out front, he'll be checking in if you guys haven't come out in an hour or so."

"Thanks, Brass. See you around." I waved as I picked up my case, slung my camera around my neck, and took a couple of steps back from the body. Branlen had been wearing some khaki-colored cargo shorts, and that's about it. So there were no shoe scuffs if he had managed to fall softly. What had happened to this guy?

* * *

A few grueling hours later, and Greg and I were standing between our cars.

"Well, looks like we have to go find some information elsewhere," he said, the exhaustion clear in his voice.

"It would seem so," I replied as I pushed my kit into the back. We had canvassed the entire house, swabbed and printed every surfaced, photographed everything and anything. We came up with virtually nothing. A small semen stain in the bed – no surprise there – and a little urine on the carpet in the living room. We cut that out of the floor and were going to try and salvage some DNA from it, but we didn't have high hopes for that. It was almost dried when we cut it, and would likely be done drying by the time we arrived at the lab.

"It's a good thing the guy wasn't a loner," Greg suggested. "Then we'd _really_ have nothing."

"Yeah. I don't even want to begin to think about that," I said as we got into our respective Denalis. "See you at the lab," I called out before pulling away.

As soon as I was in the car, though, thoughts came flooding into my head and I resisted the urge to close my eyes and groan. Instead, I shook my head and turned on the radio. Maybe some tunes would keep it all away, even if only for a couple minutes.

_**AN: Thanks again for reading! I'm really pleased that I already have reviews. I hope more people stumble upon this so I can get some feedback! It's hard to jump into "Sidle-mode" after talking to friends about hilarious flash animations, so hopefully things seem pretty in-character. Chapter three may come tomorrow, maybe later. Depends on how busy I am!**_


	3. Flee

_**Author's Note: I know it's been a couple of days more than I had intended it to be since my last update, but I got really swamped with work this week. It's getting close to the end of school; we only have 15 days of classes left, so I have a bunch of projects and papers to do. Bear with me as I try to keep up! Again, thank you all for your reviews, they're much appreciated and keep me going!**_

_**There are spoilers for season 10 in this fic, and I don't own CSI or any of the characters; I'm just borrowing them for a few moments…**_

**Chapter 3 - Flee**

Sara returned to the lab, exiting the car with a grimace upon her features. The drive had done nothing for her thoughts, and even less for her questions. Her strides were long and heavy as she entered the familiar glassy hallways of the crime lab and her eyes looked as though she was not only consumed in thought but in another world altogether.

"I'll run these over to Hodges and Wendy, okay?"

The voice startled her, though not visibly, and she nodded at the hyperactive once-lab-rat-now-CSI.

"Sure, Greg. Meet you in the break room?" Sara answered him, knowing she needed a moment to herself.

"Sure thing," came the over-the-shoulder reply. Sara nodded to herself, sighed, and made her way to the break room.

* * *

Catherine Willows had seen enough paperwork for one day. Two hours of filling out forms and reviewing case findings had left her with one empty pen and one major headache. Dragging herself out of her chair and stumbling as she noted her leg was asleep, the dreary CSI resolved to find herself some coffee – and an ibuprofen or three.

As she exited her office, Catherine didn't bother looking where she was going before rounding the corner towards the break room. In fact, it wasn't until she saw someone's feet sidestepping her own that she realized she had almost slammed straight into Greg.

"Whoa, Catherine. You doin' alright?" He asked, reaching out his free hand and placing it on Catherine's shoulder in concern.

"Yeah, Greg. I'm fine. Just a headache from all that paperwork I've been doing," she responded, trying not to be as curt as she wanted to be. Her headache was running straight for the border of migraine territory, and she wanted to catch it before it got there. The younger CSI nodded, muttering an apology before gesturing over his shoulder.

"I've gotta go, but help yourself to some of my Hawaiian mix. It's in the cupboard to the left on the bottom," Greg offered, knowing how nice some quality coffee could be on bad days. Catherine nodded and smiled as her caffeine savior strode off easily. _So that's where he keeps it…_

* * *

Doc Robbins circled the body again, making sure he hadn't missed anything. It was a pretty simple case of Acetaminophen OD, but it had very rapid onset and he couldn't find any other underlying conditions. He sent some extra bodily samples over to Tox just to make sure there were no underlying conditions that could have made the OD so lethal. The vic had ingested a large amount of Vicodin in a short amount of time, and there was some extra Acetaminophen in his system from another source. It was likely straight-up Tylenol, but he wanted Tox to do an advanced panel on it to make sure there weren't any other drugs that could have entered the vic.

After careful examination, Doc Robbins concluded that the body had no strange injection marks, so he couldn't have been doing any drugs that way. In fact, the victim seemed very healthy. He couldn't find what could have caused the OD to be fatal as rapidly as it had been, so he was leaving that to Tox to figure out.

Looking up from the body he had just finished sewing up, Doc smiled as the ever-peppy Greg sauntered into the room, closely followed by a distracted Sara Sidle.

"What's up, Doc?" Greg asked, his wide smile speaking volumes through his pun.

"Nice to see you, too, Greg," Doc Robbins began. "There seems to be nothing wrong with this body other than the obvious COD of Acetaminophen overdose." The CSIs nodded. "It's puzzling to me, as there was no reason for the overdose to have been fatal so rapidly. I sent a few samples of bodily fluids over to Tox to have them do an advanced panel on it, just in case there's something else in his system."

"He was outside when we found him. Could the temperature have sped it up?" Sara asked, knowing that even though it wasn't particularly sweltering that weekend, a higher body temperature could have caused the overdose to become more advanced, based on the rate the body metabolized it.

"It's doubtful. I'm sure you were aware of the mild temperatures this weekend, so there wasn't anything that could have called for an increase in body temperature." Greg hummed in thought, and Sara nodded. "That's another peculiar thing – I can't understand why he was on a prescription for Vicodin. His refill was filled the day prior to his death, am I right?"

"Yeah. And those things usually aren't refillable a long time after they're prescribed, right?" Greg answered, trying to clarify any possibilities for someone else refilling his prescription before they hit the streets.

"It's not likely," Sara began. "In fact, they're usually prescribed for a set amount of time. Who knows how he got it…" She answered Greg's unasked questioning.

"Well, we'll just have to see what Tox says, won't we?" Doc Robbins concluded, pacing over to the CSIs. "Now get, I have some John Does to process," he continued somewhat playfully, a smile across his features.

* * *

The break room was oddly populated for this time of night, Catherine noted as she sat with her fresh coffee. Ray and Nick were back from their 411, looking over some case files as they had some soda. Being out in the desert, traipsing around on a stretch of road was no fun and Catherine knew how it could dry one's throat out.

Fortunately, she could already feel some soothing of the pain in her head from the simple vapors of the drink. She had only made enough coffee for her cup, wanting to spare Greg some trouble, so the disappointed looks on the faces of her team were only to be expected as they searched for the source of the deliciously scented brew.

Sara strode in shortly after she had seated herself, a blank look upon her face. She had seemed distracted all night – at least when Catherine had seen her previously, and judging by the bags developing under Sara's eyes, she had not been doing any better. The tall CSI had quickly taken her regular seat, curled up in a corner of the couch with a forensics journal, followed by Greg who gave Catherine an easy smile. He made his destination the refrigerator, where he grabbed a cold beverage of…some sort before sitting by Catherine at the table.

"How are you doing?" He asked gently, just in case she was still in pain.

"Better," she replied honestly, taking a sip of the coffee. She had taken some pain relievers immediately upon arriving in the break room, and she was starting to feel the pain becoming suppressed. Greg smiled and nodded.

"Good," he said, taking a sip of his own drink.

Meanwhile, Sara had been trying to tune out the world. She had no use for free time, and that seemed to be all she was getting. Especially since waiting for a report from Tox was like waiting for Christmas…if the month was February. Being in the break room with so many people…well, it was mostly one person she was having a problem with, but…having so much external stimulation was not helping. It made her feel trapped, and she wanted to run to "her lab," the one where she used to always hide out when things got tough, but she had promised everyone she wasn't going to do that anymore. She was going to be stronger, and trust the team with her problems. _Right_, she mused internally, _that's going to happen. I'd just get laughed at_.

"Sara?"

The decidedly feminine voice caused her eyes to snap up in surprise.

"You alright there?" Catherine asked, sitting next to the brunette with a cup of…_was that Greg's Hawaiian mix?_

"I'm fine. Is that Greg's Hawaiian coffee?" She asked, clearly not giving any thought to her answer.

"Yes. But did you even hear me?" Catherine asked. She tried not to be too harsh-sounding, but she knew Sara would take her question the wrong way.

"I did, and I told you. I'm fine. Now why do you have Greg's special coffee that he keeps hidden from us?" Sara answered, frankly put off by Catherine's accusation.

"Migraine," she answered, taking her voice down a notch. She knew she had pushed Sara's buttons, she didn't want to continue to poke and prod.

"Ah." _Eloquent, Sidle. Really eloquent._

"I was…I was asking if you were okay because you had asked for some time earlier…you seem really tired," Catherine commented. She didn't want to be annoying, she was concerned. Successfully coming off as such, Sara smiled sadly.

"It's nothing to concern yourself over; I'm just having a hard time lately."

"You know I'm here if you need to talk, right?"

"I know, Catherine. I know," Sara replied softly. She knew, she just would never go to the older CSI with any of her issues. _Especially not this one…_

"Things are alright with Grissom, aren't they?" Catherine asked, her voice but a whisper. She knew the boys would jump at hearing of their former supervisor. A pause followed by a sigh answered Catherine well enough.

"Like I said. Nothing to concern yourself over."

And with that, Sara Sidle stood up and left the break room for "her lab."

_**AN: I hope that was okay! I've been very distracted emotionally as of late, and thusly I have no idea if I stayed in-character for everyone. Again, thank you for your reviews! I love feedback 3**_


	4. Guilt

**Author's Note: I'm so sorry I haven't updated! I sort of left this one in the wind, I guess…Well, I'm writing a lot more now and want to write some Cara. Here we go.**

**Disclaimer/Spoiler Alert is the same as in previous chapters.**

**Chapter 4 - Guilt**

Catherine watched in confusion as Sara bolted out of the break room. _Nothing to concern yourself over? Oh, and I'm Bruce Springsteen,_ Catherine thought sarcastically. Shaking her head, she rose and carefully walked out of the break room, not wanting to make it seem as though she were following Sara anywhere. _The team doesn't need to worry about her…I hope_.

Catherine's first guess on Sara's location was spot-on: "her lab," the one with blinds and old equipment in the back corner. It was so dark and depressing in there. Catherine never understood how someone could honestly work or feel better in such a place. She knocked on the door and let herself in.

"Jeez, Cath. Give a girl a little warning, why don't you?" Sara instantly retorted at Catherine's hasty entrance. Catherine shut the door behind her.

"What, afraid I'd catch you sexting Grissom?" Sara closed her eyes and shuddered in response, though her mouth was set in a grimace leading Catherine to believe it was _not_ a shudder of anticipation. "Are you okay?" She asked.

Sara shook her head. _How am I supposed to tell her this? I'm not sure I've even said it to myself in my head!_ The thoughts began to swirl around in her mind so quickly that it felt as though the world was spinning, too.

"Whoa, there, Sidle," Catherine cautioned as she rested a hand on Sara's shoulder. "You're looking mighty pale. Sit down. Are you feeling all right?"

Sara looked around and sat in the office chair to her right. "I'm fine," she responded. "Health-wise, at least."

"Then why do you look like you're about to pass out?"

_Because you're here, in front of me, asking me to tell you that you're the reason I need a few days off!_ Sara responded in her head. _I don't want to admit to you that you've won, that you'll always be the one in control so long as I hide this from you._

"Sara?" Catherine prompted after a moment of silence.

"I can't tell you, Catherine," Sara finally spat out. "I just…can't…tell you."

"What?" Catherine asked, shocked. "Why?" She knew they hadn't been the closest over the years, so perhaps Sara still didn't really trust her, but they had been building a small friendship and she expected more than just another shut-down from her younger coworker.

"I just can't, Cath," Sara responded, jarring Catherine again with the softened nickname and guilty tone of voice. She mumbled something else under her voice.

"I'd what?" Catherine asked, dropping the nickname issue, swearing she'd heard Sara say _You'd kill me if you ever found out_.

"It's nothing, Cath. It's nothing. Nothing…to concern yourself over."

"Like hell it isn't, Sidle!" Catherine had listened long enough. "Look. Something is bothering you. I, believe it or not, care about you and the friendship we've been building recently. I know this doesn't have to do with work and I know that it's probably personal, but I want to be here to help you."

Sara sighed and looked up at Catherine pleadingly. _I can't believe I'm about to say this_, she thought as a groan of resignation escaped her lips.

"I can't tell you because you'd fire me. It's you, specifically. I just can't tell you about it. It would ruin everything."

_What would ruin everything?_ Catherine thought to herself. _Is it something I've said? What does she mean by everything?_ Sara saw the worry run over Catherine's features.

"Catherine, it's not—"

"What, Sara? What did I do? I must have done something. If I upset you I'm sorry, we've all been really stressed out lately, and I—"

"Cat, stop." The nickname, even less common and typically hated by Catherine, stopped her short immediately. "You didn't. Do. Anything. I promise. I did something, okay? I did something, and I can't tell you about it because you would hate me forever and thing I was a horrible, horrible person."

_Did Sara Sidle just say "you would hate me forever?" As in, what Lindsey says about me if she ever did anything I've told her not to do? My teenaged daughter and Sara have the same vernacular?_

"Whoa there, Sidle. Did you just say I'd 'hate you forever,' as in the cliché all teens use against their parents in an argument?"

"No. I mean, I…no. I did not."

"I'm quite certain you did. Now what could you have possibly done that would make me hate you? Forever?" Catherine inquired.

"I'm sorry, this is probably a waste of your time, I should go—" Sara tried to change the subject and escape the situation.

"No, Sidle, you're not going anywhere until you've told me what horrible thing you could have possibly done to make me think so horribly of you."

"Look, Catherine, it's not that simple," Sara responded, growing defensive and agitated.

"Sara. I'm not trying to get upset with you. You're just making this a whole hell of a lot harder than it needs to be."

Sara fidgeted for a moment under Catherine's serious gaze and tried to calm down. _I shouldn't be getting upset with her, I'm just making an ass out of myself. But god, how can I tell her? I can't believe I did it once…let alone for the past week! God, how could I be so stupid? I should've stopped myself, I__—_

"Sara?" Catherine's voice cut through Sara's thoughts instantly, her head snapping up and her mind freezing.

"I…"

"You what, Sara?"

"I did something bad."

"I know you think that, Sara."

"I did something really bad, Catherine."

"I'm sure it couldn't be so horrible. Just tell me, okay? You're always so hard on yourself." Catherine tried to reason with the brunette, kneeling down in front of her seated coworker.

"But it _is_ that horrible!" She turned away from Catherine's intense blue eyes. "I can't believe I did this to you," she mumbled, hoping Catherine wouldn't hear her.

"I don't see how you've done anything to me, particularly since I don't know about it," Catherine said, softly, as she saw the fear and pain swirling in Sara's deep brown eyes. Sara didn't respond, suddenly very interested in the tile floor. "Look; if it'll make you feel better, I'll count to twenty before I respond," Catherine continued. It was something she had picked up from trying to persuade information out of Lindsey. Not something that usually worked with suspects, but Sara wasn't a suspect here. She looked to see if the idea had struck a chord with her coworker.

Sara nodded and sighed in resignation. She looked up at Catherine uncomfortably.

"Promise you won't fire me?"

**AN 2: Hey, a cliffhanger! I'll be updating later today or tomorrow, most likely. I really want to get this story rolling. The counting to twenty thing that Catherine does with Sara is something my lovely girlfriend has done with me in the past to make me more okay with talking about difficult subjects. It's wonderfully relaxing, it takes my anxiety level way down.**

**Reviews make me write faster!**


	5. Breakfast

**Author's Note: It's not as fast as I had hoped, but here's the update! The next chapter will be out soon...very soon if you review and give me advice! I hope you all enjoy…**

**Disclaimer/Spoiler Alert is the same as in previous chapters.**

**Chapter 5 - Breakfast**

A curt nod was all Sara got as a response from her coworker. _Hopefully that won't change to ex-coworker_, she thought, hesitating a moment more. _I just have to tell her, and then it'll be over. Right, Sidle? You can do this_, she reasoned to herself.

"Catherine, I…" She finally looked back into Catherine's eyes, those intense blue irises that had haunted her dreams for the past week finally piercing into her again as she let her walls down. She could feel herself tense up in preparation to defend herself, to put those walls back up, but she stopped herself. "I shouldn't be telling you this at work," she continued, the narrowing of Catherine's eyes causing her to hurry up and nearly stumbling over her next few words. "I was at home one night and I was drunk and I was alone, and…Itouchedmyself. Andthoughtaboutyou. Andnowyouwon'tgetoutofmyhead. EverytimeIlookatyou."

Sara took the long pause and stunned look from Catherine as a negative response and snapped her eyes shut and pinched the bridge of her nose, trying to hide herself as she felt her cheeks and neck burn with embarrassment.

"I'm sorry, Catherine, I'm so sorry. I told you it was horrible, you must think I'm a horrible person, I never meant—"

Before Sara could continue, Catherine's fingers were placed delicately over Sara's lips in a successful attempt to silence her. _Oh god,_ she thought after a brief pause, _her fingers are so soft._ Sara struggled in these thoughts, hardly able to make out Catherine's whispers of numbers counting down from twenty to zero over her internal battle between her libido and her rational mind.

"You're right," Catherine began. Sara felt her heart sink into her gut where her stomach churned and she thought she might be sick. "You shouldn't be telling me this at work."

Sara searched Catherine's eyes for any other response, positive or negative. She couldn't see what Catherine was thinking or feeling at all, and for once she felt lost and alone instead of comforted by Catherine's gaze. _She cornered me, I had to tell her,_ she rationalized over and over again.

"Not when I've cornered you like this, at least," Catherine continued, echoing Sara's thoughts. Her face sported a look of confusion, and so Catherine continued. "You should have been able to come to me if it was bothering you so much, if you were having such a difficult time at work. I never meant to intrude, I was just worried about you. I was worried you were going to leave the team again."

Sara was dissatisfied by Catherine's lack of reaction to what she'd truly just exposed, what she'd been hiding now for a week, the feelings that could have been there for much longer. Sara stared at Catherine, silent. A few painful moments passed, and Sara groped around inside her head for words.

"That's it," were the most eloquent words she could find.

Catherine nodded, confused. _What else am I supposed to say?_ She thought. _Sara just told me she's been thinking about me when she…_ Catherine shivered visibly.

"Are you okay? Are you cold?" Sara asked, her recent panic levels causing her to be reactive. Catherine shook her head quickly, then nodded. "What does that mean? Do you need a blanket? Or do you need me to leave? What do you need, Catherine, I—"

"Sara, stop. You're rambling." Sara clamped her mouth shut, her shoulders sagging. "I'm fine." Sara nodded slowly.

_She thinks about me when she touches herself,_ Catherine allowed herself to finish. _Sara touches herself._ She stared off past Sara's shoulder. _Sara Sidle has a sex drive. _Suddenly, images of Sara being intimate…_with men? Women?_ flashed across Catherine's imagination. She shook her head to refocus on Sara's face, her younger coworker's lips turned down in both fear and concern. _Sara Sidle has sex. With people. And with herself…by herself. And she has fantasies. _Catherine was having trouble wrapping her head around the thought when she realized she'd been staring at Sara's lips. Snapping her gaze up to Sara's eyes, she realized that her choice of focus had likely been confusing and detrimental to the whole interaction. _Sara Sidle doesn't just go home, order chinese food on delivery, and listen to her police scanner before bed. Sara Sidle has fantasies. _Catherine noticed her thinking was starting to go in circles as she tried to re-imagine Sara's life. _She thinks about me when she touches herself_.

Sara raised one eyebrow, drawing Catherine back out of her thoughts. "Everything all right in there, Cath?" She asked, having calmed down significantly during Catherine's inner ramblings. Catherine nodded, her head jumping around as if she had forgotten how to make the simple motion.

"Yeah. Yeah. Everything's fine, Sara," she said, slowly standing up. "Look, do you want to go for breakfast after shift?"

"What do you mean?" Sara asked. _Does she mean on a date? I'm definitely not ready for that_, she thought. _Does she want to fire me over breakfast? I have no idea how she feels about this…it's almost like she doesn't feel a thing!_

"I want to talk to you, Sara. I need to tell you a few things. And they shouldn't be said at work."

**AN 2: Another cliffhanger! What does Catherine have to say about Sara's…confession? Sorry if this chapter seems awkward or jumpy, at least more than what it maybe should be considering their situation. I've written this over the course of a few sittings so the text may not flow very well, which is another reason why it's shorter than other chapters. I want to sit down and write the next chapter and make sure it flows well, all in one sitting. Thanks to all of my reviewers who have helped me along the way. If I start to stray from their characters too much (more than is believable), _please please PLEASE_ let me know!**

**As always, reviews make me write faster!**


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